


Sun's Day

by EvilReceptionistOfDoom



Series: Hunters [2]
Category: Seirei no Moribito | Guardian of the Sacred Spirit
Genre: Assassination, Best Friends, Childhood Betrothal, Courtship, Daddy Issues, Double Life, F/M, Introspection, Japanese gardens, Mother-Son Relationship, Multiple identities, Nobility, Prostitutes, Secrets, Slice of Life, Tea, a day in the life, assumed names, cross-dressing, drag lessons, implied threesome, it's a pun see Sunday Sun's Day shut up, really more like triple life actually, the world's prettiest ninja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilReceptionistOfDoom/pseuds/EvilReceptionistOfDoom
Summary: A day in the (double) life of an Imperial Hunter.Slice-of-life prequel, preceding the anime by 2 or 3 years.
Relationships: Sun/various
Series: Hunters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/479968





	Sun's Day

**Author's Note:**

> I made up everyone's given names except Mon, Jin, and Hyoku, whose names are given in the gaiden manga.

At half past one in the morning, the Hunter Sun strangled a Talsh spy in the room the spy had rented above a bento restaurant. The man had bought dinner from the restaurant, and Sun, posing as another customer, had drugged the food as a waitress carried it upstairs. She hadn't noticed him do this because he was flirting so heavily with her that he could have stolen the food outright and she probably wouldn't have registered it. Drugged or not, the spy had put up a good struggle; but Sun was strong despite his size and felt that the assassination had been easy, as far as these things went.  
By a quarter past two, Sun had returned to his home in Upper Ougi, a modest building by the standards of New Yogoan nobility but very old and well-appointed. Before he left, he had kissed his mother good night and pretended to retire; now, he entered through the servants' door and crept soundlessly to his room, and no one could have guessed he'd ever left. He changed into nightclothes and was asleep by two thirty.  
At eight, one of the servants tapped lightly on the master's door to wake him. Ten minutes later, Lord Akira Sayutan joined his mother on the veranda of their manor, which looked out over their mossy, well-maintained garden. The old woman smiled warmly. "Good morning, my son. Did you sleep well?"  
"I slept perfectly, Mother," the young man told her with a smile as he kissed her forehead. They sat down and enjoyed a light breakfast and jasmine tea with honey. Sun - Akira - had three older sisters, but they had all married off and moved out before he was even full-grown. His father had passed away a few years ago, but Sun didn't miss him. The elder Lord Sayutan had been charming and solicitous towards his wife and doted upon his daughters, but for Akira he had never had a smile or a kind word. There was only strict perfectionism and the grueling, painful training exercises every night since Akira was six. Some of the Hunters - Mon, for instance - had good relationships with their fathers. Sun was not one of them.  
His mother, however, had always, always been there for him. She had dried his tears as a child and hugged him and promised he was safe, though she did not know why he cried so often then, because her son would not tell her. She had chided her husband for being so cold towards the boy, and she had always had a smile for Akira, come rain or shine. He was not close to his sisters, who had mostly ignored him growing up, but he considered his mother one of his dearest friends.  
After breakfast, Akira Sayutan changed into a more formal kimono and walked leisurely to the home of his fiancee. Her name was Hana; her family was an offshoot of the distinguished and influential Tosuku House, far more socially-advanced than Sayutan House. As was typical for the nobility of New Yogo, Akira and Hana had been betrothed as children - in fact, his father had secured this match when Akira was only five and Hana four. He could remember meeting her for the first time, both of them too shy to even speak. Now Akira was twenty and Hana eighteen going on nineteen, and their parents frequently grumbled about the fact the pair were not yet married. But between his work as a Hunter and his fondness for the single life, Akira was in no rush to marry; and Hana, who was intelligent and calculating, had no interest in starting a family. Rather, she preferred to study and learn, and she had read nearly every important philosophical, historical, political, and scientific document in the body of New Yogoan literature. She had said often that she appreciate Akira's nonjudgmental attitude. "Most men would frown upon me for preferring books to romance," she'd observed. "But you seem to understand. That's what I most like about you." Hana had stated that she wished to postpone their marriage for as long as possible, and Akira had promised do the same. Theirs was not a romantic attachment, but their relationship was amicable and they met frequently to share tea and conversation.  
Today, around ten, Akira Sayutan met his betrothed in the Kotosuku manor's impressive garden, where an ornate pavilion sat on an artificial island in the center of a large, tree-lined pond. Hana smiled when he arrived. She was beautiful but in a sharp, standoffish way, like a statue one might admire but never wish to touch. Her hair was bound up in a severe, intricate mix of braids and buns, with a creamy-green lyokuhaku hair comb that must have cost as much as a team of horses; she wore black pearl earrings and a black silk kimono with dense white and green blossoms embroidered all over it. She was surrounded by books.  
Akira thought mildly, as he greeted her and politely took the cup of tea she handed him, that he would love to have a kimono like the one she wore. He had a few nice ones, but nothing nearly so lovely as this. Aloud, he complimented her on her appearance and asked what she had been reading, and for the next several hours the pair discussed various theories about the origins of human consciousness. Sun didn't care much about such deep, metaphysical material, but he still comported himself flawlessly, and Hana thanked him for such a pleasant, insightful conversation when he left.  
At half past one in the afternoon, Akira returned to the Sayutan manor. He changed again, this time into simple attire, like a tradesman or a merchant might wear. He took a small lunch on the veranda, reading a farming journal while he ate, before leaving for Lower Ougi, for the crimson district, where he had an appointment. At night, the many lamps hanging from awnings and balconies would be lit, the bars would be full, and staggering, giggling carousers would clog the streets; but now, in broad daylight, the bars and brothels were shuttered and the streets empty but for people on their way to somewhere else, and an old woman sweeping a porch. At three o'clock sharp, Sun rapped on the back door of a whitewashed building in a nicer part of the crimson district, with hanging planters of flowers adorning the building's front. He was admitted by a petite, white-haired young lady with plump cheeks, long lashes, and a mischievous smile.  
"Hello, Kama," she said brightly. She stood on tip-toes to kiss him on the lips, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him closer to her level.  
"Darling Chrysanthemum," he replied. "Is Peony ready for me?"  
"She's always ready for you," Chrysanthemum replied with a twinkle in her eyes. She gave him another kiss, then let go and pointed him up a short corridor to an open door. Inside, another woman waited, this one taller and more slender, with blue eyes and black hair and a complexion like porcelain.  
"Kama!" she said. "Right on time. Why don't you wear the lavender kimono today? I haven't seen you in it in months."  
"Is this part of the lesson?" Sun chuckled as he shed his merchant clothes and reached for a lavender silk kimono with overlong sleeves and a deep blue brocade border. The whole garment shimmered slightly in the sunlight coming through the slatted wooden shades of the windows. This was a woman's kimono, one of Peony's own in fact, but she was of similar height to Sun himself, and it fit well. She reached around his waist to help affix the ornate indigo obi that matched the kimono, but she remained standing behind him with her arms wrapped around his body for several seconds before moving. Once the outfit was put together and adjusted, Sun turned around and flashed Peony a coquettish smile, and she gave a musical peal of laughter.  
"I just like how you look in this color," she grinned. "At any rate, it's not as if you need more lessons. You're already good enough to command prices nearly as high as my own."  
"Then I obviously haven't learned everything I can." Sun stepped forward and let his hand move along Peony's neck and down her shoulder. "I can't stop til I'm the best."  
"Well, a girl's got to keep _some_ trade secrets."  
Sun had been coming here for almost three years now, about once a week, to learn from one of the top courtesans in the country. Originally this was because Mon felt that Sun was not as convincing a woman as he could be. "You're too awkward," he'd said. "Your father was a lot better." And Jin - the old, deceased one - had said that Sun's father had been so good at impersonating a woman because he'd learned from a famous courtesan, so Mon had immediately arranged for Sun to do the same. Peony was older than him by nearly eight years and had built a reputation among her clients that was unmatched. She agreed to teach Sun - Kama, to her - as a favor to an old client: Hyoku, not the young sassy one but the old one with the missing eye. At the very first lesson, Peony had told Sun that he couldn't rely on his beauty to carry the illusion; he had to sell it in everything: his mannerisms, his speech, his clothes, his carriage, his posture, his facial expressions, the way he ate. "If you're good enough, you won't need a disguise to convince people," she'd said. "You'll be able to fool them even if you're dressed like a dock-worker or a lumberjack. I can get you there but you have to trust me and work hard and practice." He had promised he was ready, and thenceforth the young man had been an exemplary student. He already knew how to shift his voice into a higher register, but Peony taught him how to speak like a woman. She spent hours showing him how to walk, how to sit, how to stand. One day, she taught him how to kiss. It was not long after that that 'Kama' and Peony became romantically involved, and soon after, Chrysanthemum also entered the picture. Sun discovered that he had a gift he hadn't known about. Now, at twenty, he could boast a list of conquests and trysts longer than, probably, those of all the other hunters' combined. He wondered how Hana would react if she knew the sort of people her betrothed consorted with.   
As a result of all of this, Sun had surpassed his father in every way, though sadly the old man had been dead too long to know it. The young Lord Sayutan entertained the pleasant thought that his father's spirit was watching his son's advancement and burning with jealousy in whatever hell the old man had been condemned to. Akira made a better woman, a better spy, a better marksman, a better Hunter, a better friend, and a better lover than his father could ever have dreamed of becoming. Good riddance.  
At ten past five, Sun straightened his mussed hair in a mirror while Peony, draped across his back, stroked his chest and neck. The lavender kimono lay on the other side of the room beside Peony's green-and-gold one - and Chrysanthemum's red one. The two women laughed as they argued playfully about who they ought to set up with Kama next. Sun merely rolled his eyes, smiling, and put his merchant clothes back on. He kissed them both on the way out, then headed for the palace. He walked at a leisurely pace, and it wasn't til nearly seven that he reached the secluded little clearing in the Mikado's forest where the Hunters' barracks sat. Sun went to his room in the barracks and changed into his Hunter uniform. He greeted Taga in the hall and the pair walked together to the main room of the house, where the shadows of the emperor now congregated to report to and receive orders from Mon, their leader. Some of them had spent the night here, others at their civilian homes, like Sun. Jin - the young, impetuous one - and Hyoku, both sixteen-going-on-seventeen, were arguing over something stupid, but they paused to greet Sun and Taga as the two arrived. Sun smiled a little at the boys' bickering. Jin and Hyoku were constantly at each other's throats, yet they spent a great deal of time together and had somehow become the best of friends over the past few years. Both boys were mercurial and self-certain, but Sun could see how Suyou had been mellowed by Taiga's company and Taiga toughened by Suyou's. He could see why Mon had suggested their fathers have the boys train together. Sun had done the same with Taga - or Tala, as was his given name - from about age ten onwards. It had led to a closeness between him and Tala that went beyond brotherhood. He felt sometimes as if Tala were his other half, and when the pair were working well together it almost seemed as if they could read each other's thoughts. Tala was shy and humble, while Akira was confident and outgoing; but when pitched against an enemy, the pair became the talons of a hawk, working in perfect unison to destroy their prey. The younger man knew that he could rely on Tala for anything. He trusted Taga even more than he trusted Mon, and he would have trusted Mon with his very soul.  
All of the Hunters had arrived by one minute to five. Sun knelt with his back straight as a board between Taga and Zen as the men quieted down and took their places before their leader. "You're such an idiot!" Sun heard Hyoku hiss, far too loud in the respectful silence; but Mon cut off Jin's no-doubt equally-mature reply.  
"Rai, has their been any movement within the Black Crab Syndicate?" This was a criminal organization that Rai had been monitoring for several weeks now after an informant suggested Black Crab intended to kidnap someone from one of the nobility. One by one, Mon questioned his men about their progress on various assignments: Hyoku, Zen, and Jin were also looking into the Black Crab rumors, Yun had been following up on reports of seditious remarks by the Minister of Agriculture, and Sun, Taga, and Mon himself had been investigating a group of Talsh traders they believed to be a spy ring. Of course, they had since confirmed these suspicions and set about eliminating the men without arousing notice. While Sun was strangling the spy above the restaurant that morning, Mon and Taga were finishing off the other remaining members of the spy ring and dumping the bodies in the Torinaki River; and thus, it seemed, they had reached a successful conclusion to the matter. Starting at six o'clock sharp, Sun had a full week of guard duty ahead of him; but until tomorrow he was without an assigned task. Mon suggested that he and Taga get plenty of rest.  
The meeting concluded and the men dispersed. Sun changed out of his uniform, amused that he'd gotten all dressed up just to sit through a briefing but grateful for the night off. He bid Taga goodnight and jogged home via a hidden path along the wooded hillside bordering the Mikado's forest. The brisk evening air was refreshing; he kept his pace just slow enough to keep from breaking a sweat, but only just. When he returned to the road he resumed a dignified stroll, lest some neighbor notice Lord Sayutan running about like a commoner. The sky was turning crimson by the time he arrived at his manor. He went to the veranda, where his mother was eating supper, and kissed her on the cheek as he sat down beside her. "Sorry I'm late, Mother," he said earnestly. "Work took longer than expected."  
"Nevermind, Akira darling. I've had the servants keep your supper warm. Tell me, how is Lord Sorusuku these days?" This was Tala; Akira's mother knew he was a boyhood friend of her son's and that they were in the Royal Guard together, though she did not know the specifics of their acquaintance. Akira talked happily with his mother over dinner, telling her about his visit with Hana Kotosuku and that Tala Sorusuku seemed to be doing well. Orutoran, their commanding officer, had commended them both for their recent success in preventing a threat to New Yogo from reaching fruition. He did not give any details that might betray his Hunter duties, and he certainly left out any mention of his excursion to Lower Ougi, but for the most part everything Sun told his mother was true. He asked her about her own day and listened as she laughed and gossiped about the other noblewomen she'd spoken with that day. It was a relaxing, easy conversation. The servants lit large wooden lanterns as the sun died and the veranda grew dark. Around eight-thirty, Lady Sayutan stifled a yawn, then bashfully confessed that she ought to get to bed. Akira kissed her again, saying that he was going to stay up a bit longer and wishing her pleasant dreams.  
While the servants cleared the veranda, Sun retrieved his sword from the office adjoining his bedroom. He stepped into the center of a clearing in the garden, lit blue by twin half-moons overhead and hidden from the house by shrubs and a small maple. There, with careful, controlled breathing and the effortless grace of an expert warrior or a dancer, Sun went through the sword kata that had been drilled into his head since he was six. The sword itself had been his grandfather's, its hilt embellished with a bright red tassel that Sun had loved to stroke and play with as a child. He remembered asking his grandfather why he carried such a pretty sword and how his grandfather had chuckled but not replied, and how his father, overhearing, had scolded him for asking foolish questions. His father's sword had been plain and ugly. When Sun inherited the Huntership that both his father and grandfather had borne before him, he elected to use the beautiful sword with the tassel and had his father's ugly sword disassembled and melted down for scrap. Now, in the moonlight, Sun imagined the tassel as an extension of himself, like a butterfly wing. The sword kata felt as natural to him as breathing. It was funny how all those miserable nights spent practicing with his father had managed to lead him here, to a place where he felt completely at peace whenever there was the hilt of a blade or the grip of a bow in his hand. He took pride in his mastery of both.  
After a little over an hour of practicing, Sun sheathed his sword and simply stood for a long moment in the garden, admiring the delicate reflection of the moons on the shiny leaves of a _tarua_ plant, the soft glow of the white night-blooming _kirakira_ petals, the glimmer of starlight on the koi pond. A breeze danced through his hair. Come morning, Sun would don his armor and helmet and stand motionless and invisible beside the Mikado's palace for hours, staring out at an expanse of white sand as blinding and featureless as the surface of the sun. For now, however, he enjoyed the stillness - the sensation of the world moving around him and past him as if he did not exist.   
Presently, at last, he turned and crossed the garden to his house, shed his shoes by the door, and walked softly to his room. It was about ten o'clock when he lay down on his futon to sleep. Sun smiled to himself, wondering when it was he'd last been able to turn in this early. As the night rolled over into day, he slept deeply, dreaming of chrysanthemums and peonies dancing in the moonlight.


End file.
